


The McElroys

by waterbird13



Series: Tumblr Fics [165]
Category: Leverage
Genre: AU, F/M, Gen, Leverage AU, Off Screen Violence, Violence, but mentions of it, they're really the McElroys, those fashionable hitmen they pretended to be that one time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 09:13:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8007547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterbird13/pseuds/waterbird13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sophie and Eliot. The McElroys. Always well-dressed, always dropping bodies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The McElroys

**Author's Note:**

> This is another piece from Tumblr.
> 
> This is a Leverage AU where Sophie and Eliot are really the McElroys, that fashionable hitmen couple they pretended to be that one time. There is off-screen violence and bodies. Their relationship is ambiguous in nature.

They’re not actually married, but it’s easier to rent properties together if they say they are, so they pretend.

She doesn’t like blood. She likes buying expensive clothes and scaring the shit out of people. He does the blood. And the grave digging, although he doesn’t like that part much either and it mostly falls to him by default.

“You have dirt on you again, honestly, I can’t believe–”

“You try digging a grave in a white shirt, okay, see how that goes–”

“See if I keep buying you nice clothes–”

She will. She likes playing dress-up and it’s boring when she just has herself as a doll.

“I swear to God, you could help out around here–”

“I am helping.”

“Standing there looking pretty is _not_ helping.”

She always bats her eyes at that. “So you think I’m pretty?”

He always rolls his eyes at that. People thinking she’s pretty is how they even got their current mark to an isolated enough area to get the job done and over with.

And by _they_ getting the job done and over with, he really means _him_. Because he’s the one with the gun. And the knife. And the garrote. And the lethal hands.

She carries a gun. She rarely shoots people, but it’s always interesting when she does. Hot. Terrifying.

He always ends up burying the damn body, even if she shot them.

“I laid out new clothes on your bed.”

“Oh good. ‘Cause you know, I just love packing up extra shit when we have to move.”

“You love my clothes. Stop complaining.”

He doesn’t admit it. But he stops complaining. And he wears the new suit the next day.

“If you could just dig a little faster–”

“Well, you could jump in and help–”

He looks up from the hole and grins at her, and she grins back.

“At least get the body from the trunk?”

“Do these clothes look like they were made for lifting bodies?”

He wants to point out that his decidedly weren’t either, but fuck it, moving a body will be the easiest part of his day, so he gets out of the grave to get it done.


End file.
